Interview with a vampire Spike's style
by spikesoul666
Summary: A little funny thing to keep the depressive thought of BtVS's ending at bay...Spike answers the questionnaire of a Watcher...What can go wrong?


INTERVIEW WITH A VAMPIRE Spike's style  
  
A/N: We all know the end of BtVS is near. Here's a little something funny I wrote a while back in order to keep my mind off the depressive topic. When you take a writing course, at a certain point you have to take that kind of questionnaire to see how well you know your character. Course that I didn't take, you can all see it by the way I write...Anyway the questions of that questionnaire are in bold (sorry FF.Net won't take italic...Anyway, hope you enjoy...And feel free to give feedback...PS: I know the title sucks...Hugs and Blood.  
  
Interview with a vampire Spike's style.  
  
Spike took a long drag out of his cigarette and looked at the man sitting in front of him. Everything about him screamed Nancy-boy. He was from the Council of Wankers but he was as different from Giles as Spike was from William.  
  
The man was dressed in a beige suit that had seen better days. He wore small glasses with black plastic frames and his hair was slicked back with what appeared to be an appalling amount of hair-gel. Spike wondered if he wouldn't send the bloke to L.A. to see Angel. Surely the two poofters could have numerous conversations about the merits of hair products...The idea was appealing. Hell, anything that would aggravate Peaches was worth a thought.  
  
The bleached vampire returned to examine the young man in front of him. He was wiping his mouth with a handkerchief and Spike could see his hands shaking. He smirked. *Good to see that I can still instill fear into people* he thought.  
  
He casually sat back on the chair and let go of a low growl.  
  
The man startled and he reached for his pocket where a small crucifix was hidden. Again he wondered why he was doing this. Sure, William the Bloody was a fascinating character, but how safe was it to be so close with just a wooden cross to protect himself? He felt like Christian Slater in'Interview with a vampire'...But William the Bloody, or Spike, as the vampire said to call him, couldn't hurt humans...Or so, Quentin Travers had assured him. Something about a chip implant, whatever that meant. So there he was, sitting in front of one of the most famous vampires, ready to ask questions that would serve in the book he was writing.  
  
"So, tell me again, Woody, why I agreed to this bloody meeting?"  
  
Spike's voice startled the young man who took off his glasses and started polishing them. The bleached vampire rolled his eyes.  
  
"Wrong! Not that much different from the watcher."  
  
He had muttered under his breath, so the man didn't hear him.  
  
"It's Woodrow, mister...uh...mister Bloody. And you agreed to answer my questionnaire because I offered you blood and cigarettes. Which, by the way, is absolutely against every rules of the Coun..."  
  
Woodrow stopped talking when Spike's eyes flashed yellow. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. He was so not a field watcher. He preferred the comfort of the Council's library.  
  
"I don't give a bloody damn about the Council of Wankers. And I'm not one to follow rules. And call me Spike."  
  
His tone was slightly menacing but somehow playful as well. Woodrow cleared his throat and took a file from his briefcase. The sooner they would start, the sooner he would be back to London.  
  
"NAME?"  
  
"William."  
  
"LAST NAME?"  
  
"None of your bloody business!"  
  
Woodrow swallowed hard. This would not be as easy as he thought it would be.  
  
"NICKNAME?"  
  
"William the Bloody, Spike, the Big Bad and a couple more the Slayer like to call me."  
  
At the mention of the Slayer, the man frowned but stayed silent.  
  
"AGE?"  
  
Spike bit his lip and took a few seconds before answering.  
  
"25 as a human. 122 as a vampire. Yep, I'm 147."  
  
"GENDER?"  
  
At that question, Spike just snorted.  
  
"Duh! All male. And then some..."  
  
He smiled cryptically at the man in front of him, amused by his obvious confusion.  
  
"OCCUPATION?"  
  
"Used to maim and kill but now I'm the Slayer's lap dog, babysitter to a key, part time scooby...love's bitch."  
  
Again Woodrow frowned at Spikes answer but stayed silent. He knew that starting an argument with the vampire would achieve nothing good.  
  
"PARENTS?"  
  
"Who made this questionnaire? Cause I think that the bloke is a few crayons short of a full box."  
  
Woodrow sighed deeply.  
  
"Please answer, Mr. Blo...uh...Spike."  
  
"Of course I had parents! A mum and a da. And a baby sister."  
  
"SIBLINGS?"  
  
"My Sire, my dark princess Dru. Her Sire, the ponce Angelus. That's about it. They're the only one still undead."  
  
"FAVORITE SCHOOL SUBJECT?"  
  
Spike chuckled. School! William had gone to school...  
  
"You never lived in London during the Victorian era, have you? Never mind...Let's say...literature, poetry and dead languages."  
  
A scholar...Woodrow's lips curled into a smile but wiped it fast when Spike's eyes flashed yellow again. He took a deep breath to try to calm himself.  
  
"FAVORITE SUBJECT OUTSIDE ALL THAT BOOK LEARNING?"  
  
Spike closed his eyes and let a smile lit his face.  
  
"Mayhem 101, biting 201 and shagging 2002..."  
  
Woodrow opened his eyes wide. The vampire was fully smiling now as if a good memory had came back to his mind. How fascinating!  
  
"HAVE YOU EVER BEEN CHARGED WITH A CRIME?"  
  
Spike started to laugh and almost choked himself. After a few moments, he regained his bearings and looked at the watcher.  
  
"You're bloody serious, aren't you? I was, with Angelus, Darla and Dru, the Scourge of Europe. You think any humans, even if they were representing the law, would be able to catch us? In your dreams , wanker!"  
  
Woodrow didn't respond to the insult. He was trying his best to finish this damn questionnaire, but he wanted nothing else but take his things and go back to London. Patience, patience, he coaxed himself.  
  
"WHO'S THE DEVIL?"  
  
At that one, Spike again started giggling.  
  
"Oh! That's a good one! Angelus was. Now he's a soddin' puppy with too much hair gel...Sometimes I think the slayer is..."  
  
Again with the slayer...It seemed that the bleached vampîre was obsessed with her. But then again he had killed two of them...  
  
"IS MEAT MURDER?"  
  
Spike frowned. What a weird question! But again the little man was no Einstein,that much was obvious.  
  
"What kind of meat are we talking about? If it's my happy meal on legs, I'll take it bloody rare. Type O neg if possible...And no, it's not murder...Call it survival..."  
  
Woodrow gulped as bile rose in his throat. He had had porridge for breakfast and the thought of blood was making his stomach queasy.  
  
"MUSIC?"  
  
"Sex Pistols, The Ramones, The Clash, The Cure...Billy Idol. Only the finest..."  
  
"BOOKS?"  
  
"Easy! Shakespeare, John Doone, any gore stories. But please, burn Anne Rice at the stake!"  
  
"MOVIES?"  
  
Spike took the time to think.  
  
"There are so many...Night of the living dead, gore movies, that one with Bruce Campbell...Army of darkness...and when I want a good laugh, I watch Interview with a vampire...You know what happened to Christian Slater's character?"  
  
He wiggled his brow and again Woodrow reached for the comfort of the crucifix in his pocket. Spike smirked.  
  
"SERIOUSLY THOUGH, IS MEAT MURDER?"  
  
Spike frowned. Now that was annoying. He had answer that question. Was the little man deaf or daft?  
  
"Why are you insisting? Do you consider yourself a happy meal on legs?"  
  
Woodrow gulped down but remained calm. He was shaking but he was calm.  
  
"I'm just reading you the questions. I didn't do the questionnaire."  
  
Spike just shrugged.  
  
"FAVORITE GAME?"  
  
"Dancing with the Slayer. Taunting the whelp."  
  
"WHAT IS LESS FUNNY THAN A RUBBER CHICKEN?"  
  
"This one's easy! The whelp is less than anything you can think about. And let me tell you that a rubber chicken can be bloody funny...I remember one time with Dru..."  
  
"Please Mr. Blo...uh Spike. Just stick to the questions..."  
  
He had no intention of listening to any of the depraved vampire's twisted sexual prowess. His fragile psyche was screaming for mercy now and he was struggling to keep his sanity.  
  
Spike pouted.  
  
"You're no fun! Kinda like Rupert. Do you all Watchers have a stick far up in your arse?"  
  
He liked taunting the little whelp. Hell he was even drabber than Harris!  
  
Woodrow opened his mouth only to close it immediately. Do not respond to the obvious taunting, he chanted to himself. Stay calm, stay calm.  
  
"DO YOU LIKE SURPRISE PARTIES?"  
  
"Sure! If it includes booze, cake, a couple of strippers. And shagging the Slayer at the end of the party."  
  
Spike smirked when he saw the watcher undoing his tie and swallowing hard. That would give him something to brood about on his way home. A Slayer and a vampire shagging...  
  
"ARE YOU A CHRISTMAS GEEK?"  
  
"I'm no geek, period! Although the Slayer would disagree with me. And I hate Christmas. Except for carolers...they make a lovely buffet..."  
  
The young watcher swallowed hard when Spike smiled and his fangs showed up. *Remember, he can't hurt you,* he thought.  
  
"QUOTE?"  
  
"There is so much...But my best one goes like this: Love isn't brains children....The rest is private and I doubt that you would understand the depth of my thoughts."  
  
Woodrow closed his eyes when he saw the next two questions. Oh God! Maybe he could skip those...But Quentin would want to see the Vampire's answers...  
  
"SEXUAL POSITIONS?"  
  
Spike chuckled.  
  
"Hello! Vampire here! Tried and liked pretty much everything..."  
  
Spike was smiling very suggestively. Woodrow started fidgeting under the vampire's stare.  
  
"IS SEX BEST WHEN IT IS WITH A STRANGER, BEST FRIEND OR WORST ENEMY?"  
  
Spike laughed softly.  
  
"Buffy...the Slayer can be all three at the same time."  
  
This time Woodrow looked at the vampire with a curious look. But common sense told him not to ask for more.  
  
"EVER BROKE A BONE? IF NOT, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'VE BEEN DOING WRONG?"  
  
"The Slayer dropped an organ on my back and with all the fights...Between her and Angelus...Yeah I broke a few bones. Mine and others..."  
  
"DO YOU VOTE?"  
  
The bleached vampire rolled his eyes and shook his head.  
  
"You're talking to a 122 year old alien vampire with no driver's license, no passport and no soddin' ID! What do you think?"  
  
The watcher remained silent.  
  
"IF YOU WERE A 19TH CENTURY CAPTAIN OF INDUSTRY, WHAT WOULD YOU DO WHEN THE RAGGAMUFFIN ON THE STREET CORNER THROW SNOWBALLS AT YOUR STOVEPIPE HAT?"  
  
Woodrow looked at the vampire apologetically. That was one stupid question! On that he would agree with the vampire. But Spike didn't made fun of the question.  
  
"I probably would be one of the ragamuffin...and I would drain the captain of industry dry..."  
  
Woodrow didn't reply to that. It was almost over now and he was very proud of himself for behaving like a watcher.  
  
'CUSTOMIZED OR ORIGINAL FACTORY CONDITION?"  
  
"Customized."  
  
"FISH ON FRIDAY?"  
  
"No. But a nice fisherman will do...or a watcher named Woody..."  
  
Woodrow flinched but reminded himself that Spike had a chip and couldn't hurt humans. If Travers was right...Oh God! Another of those questions!  
  
"IF YOU HAD TO HAVE SEX WITH SOMEONE OF A GENDER OUTSIDE YOUR USUAL SEXUAL PREFERENCE, WHO WOULD IT BE?"  
  
"Again, Vampire here! Men, women...we pretty much fuck whatever moves..."  
  
The watcher held his breath as pictures of vampires with various living creatures came to his mind. Oh god Oh god! Quick, thinking about Sunday morning mass. Father O'Neil's sermon...Soon he was able to push the disturbing images to the back of his mind.  
  
"WORST TEACHER YOU EVER HAD?"  
  
"Peaches! Nothing he tried to teach me stuck. You could say I'm a self made vampire."  
  
Woodrow frowned. Peaches?  
  
"Who's Peaches."  
  
Spike smirked. Of course those wankers of the Council wouldn't know about those little terms of endearment for the big poof.  
  
"Angelus!"  
  
"Oh!"  
  
The watcher suddenly took off his glasses and wiped it with his handkerchief. A very typical Giles' fashion. Spike chuckled. Woodrow raised an eyebrow but didn't interrogate the vampire about his sudden bout of hilarity.  
  
"BEST LAWYER YOU EVER HAD?"  
  
"Never needed one. But I can recommend you Wolfram and Hart..."  
  
"MOST YOU HAVE EATEN?"  
  
"Mmmmmmm...I remember one night in Spain...There was a corrida...23 men, 7 women and 2 bulls...A good memory!"  
  
"EVER KILLED LIVING CREATURE?"  
  
Spike opened his mouth wide and looked incredulously at Woodrow. He banged his fist on the table, startling the watcher.  
  
"Have you listened to a bloody word I've told you?"  
  
He jumped out of his chair and started pacing around muttering under his breath about stupid ponce with too much hair gel.  
  
Woodrow wasn't sure how to calm down the pissed off vampire. There were only six questions left and he was in a rush to finish this.  
  
Spike suddenly walked back to the table and plopped back on his chair. He stared at the young man and clenched his jaw. After a moment he relaxed.  
  
"Let's just finish this..."  
  
His voice was low and menacing. Woodrow just nodded. When he asked the next question, his voice was above a whisper.  
  
"EVER SAVED A LIFE?"  
  
Spike clenched his fists but answered with a controlled voice.  
  
"Sod off!"  
  
Woodrow bit his lip but wrote down the vampire's answer.  
  
"WHAT DID YOU DRAW PICTURES OF WHEN YOU WERE IN KINDERGARTEN?"  
  
"What's kindergarten?"  
  
The watcher didn't want to start a long explanation about kindergarten but he couldn't just ignore the vampire's question.  
  
"Never mind. It's not an important question."  
  
Spike snorted.  
  
"Then why are you bloody asking them?"  
  
Woodrow didn't reply. He just asked the next question. Oh God! Spike would probably lose it with this one.  
  
"RELIGION?(Please don't answer it's just the obligatory rhetorical question)."  
  
"Then again why do you bloody ask them if you don't want me to answer it!!!???Bloody stupid wanker!"  
  
Again the watcher didn't reply to the insult.  
  
"WHO CAN'T YOU LIVE WITHOUT?(Don't think about it)"  
  
"Buffy! The Slayer. See, you can ask intelligent questions when you want!"  
  
"FIRST CAR YOU EVER DROVE AND CAR YOU DRIVE NOW?"  
  
"Let me think...A DeDion Bouton I stole after draining the owner...And now my beloved DeSoto..."  
  
"MUSICAL ARTIST YOU USED TO LIKE BUT DON'T ADMIT EVER LIKING?"  
  
The bleached vampire giggled and his eyes flashed yellow. The little whelp was now driving him to the edge and since he couldn't really hurt him at last he could try to scare him a little.  
  
"Like I'm gonna tell you, you soddin' git!"  
  
"SECRETS YOU WILL TAKE TO YOUR GRAVE?"  
  
Spike looked at the watcher with a predatory gleam.  
  
"Any of the bloody awful poetry I have ever written. That and where I have buried your body, meat!"  
  
With those words, Spike changed into his game face and lunged at Woodrow. The watcher jumped out of his seat with a scream. Damn Quentin! He had been wrong about the bleached vampire! He closed his eyes, waiting for the fatal bite. But nothing happened.  
  
"Get out fast!"  
  
Woodrow opened his eyes and saw the Slayer who had pined the vampire on the floor, a stake aimed at his heart. He swallowed hard and threw the file in his briefcase. He ran out of the Magic shop without a glance back. When the doorbell rang, Buffy looked back at Spike who was playing with a strand of her hair. She tried to get up but he grabbed her by the waist and kept her still. She smiled.  
  
"Bad Spike. You scared the living daylight out of him! And how come your chip didn't zap you?"  
  
Spike pouted and ran his hand on the small of her back.  
  
"Glad to see that I can still scare people. And my chip didn't go zap because I had no intention of hurting the little whelp. I was just having a little fun."  
  
Buffy started to play with the buttons of his shirt.  
  
"It's nice to see you smile. Did you answer honestly to all the questions?"  
  
Spike wiggled his brow.  
  
"I told the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth."  
  
Buffy licked her lips.  
  
"MmmmmmSo you can't live without me?***  
  
***You know bloody well Slayer that you are the air I breathe."  
  
She pouted.  
  
"But you don't breathe!"  
  
Spike unclasped her bra and tore the fabric in two.  
  
"Just a metaphor, luv. You're my everything."  
  
Buffy smiled happily.  
  
"Good! Now about that thing with a rubber chicken..."  
  
Spike chuckled and pulled her closer.  
  
"I'll show you later luv."  
  
"But..."  
  
He didn't let her finish. He kissed her passionately, which was the best way to shut her up. Yes, he would show her what he could do with a rubber chicken...With a Slinky...With a bellows...He still had one of those back at the crypt....Yes he would show her why they called him the Big Bad.  
  
The end! 


End file.
